


That guy that I'd kinda be into

by friendlystranger1312



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Inspired by Be More Chill, M/M, Marijuana, Multi, OT3, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Oblivious Stanley Uris, References to Be More Chill, References to Drugs, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier's Sense of Humor, Richie Tozier-centric, Song: A Guy That I'd Kinda Be Into (Be More Chill), Song: Upgrade (Be More Chill), There's A Tag For That
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 07:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22392313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlystranger1312/pseuds/friendlystranger1312
Summary: It's Richie's senior year, and that should be a good thing!And yet, Stan's ignoring him (which is absolutely not bothering Richie in anyway whatsoever). But hypothetically speaking, if itdid, he may be getting a touch concerned. Mostly because the last time he spoke to him Stan spent all his cash on a wintergreentic-tac.But none of that has anything to do with Eddie Kaspbrak talking to him-orthe way his hands are sweating right now-orthe way he thinks he may be kinda into his best friends crush whilealsobeing into his best friend.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	That guy that I'd kinda be into

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [3 Player Game!](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/553258) by binthibubb. 



Richie wasn’t, like, a clingy person. Or at least, he _tried_ not to be. It’s not like he didn’t get attention at home, his Moms are great actually and really supportive of him! 

But at school, it’s hard to ignore the pressing reality of how little you matter in the grand scheme of life. 

He’s a loser, plain and simple, and to his peers this means he’s as disposable as a kodak camera with two takes still on it that you never use so it sits forgotten at the back of a drawer stuffed full with other useless junk. 

That’s not to say Richie doesn’t have _friends_ , in fact, he’s got the best friend this side of Jersey! 

Who also just happens to be avoiding him. 

...And not talking to him. 

Which, you know, that’s cool! _Totally_! 

See, this is why he’s not a clingy person because his best bro since basically diapers is ignoring him. Like, eyes glazed over seeing through you ignoring him ( _and that’s not creepy or raising fifty million red flags one bit_ ). And he’s _absolutely_ chill with that.

Not like Stan ditched him at the mall or anything out of nowhere.

And hasn’t responded to his texts.

Or ignored when he tossed a note on his desk during Chem.

Then walked off slamming his locker when he ran up to him that morning with a happy ‘Stan the man!!’

Chill. Totally _chill_.

The nervous fidgeting of his leg is just because he’s anxious the new slurpee flavor at seven-eleven will be out by the time lunch rolls around.

Yeah, yeah yeah _yeah yeah yeah ye ah y e a h_ -

“Are, uh, are you okay?”

Fuck his luck, of course it had to be _him_.

Richie starts fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie as he stiffly turns to the boy sitting beside him.

Eddie _fucking_ Kaspbrak. 

Alright, wait, that’s not completely fair. 

Eddie's never been _mean_ to Richie, per say, but there’s only so many times one can watch their best bro in the universe flay himself over the kid before you want to brain yourself on a _pike_ every-time he wistfully sighs _E D D I E K A S P B R A K._

Wow that sounded vindictively jealous even in the privacy of his own mind. 

Not that he’s jealous! Hahahaha _haaaaa!_

Oh shit he’s been staring too long, and now Eddie’s going to think he’s a lunatic ( _which okay fair but like_ -) and if Eddie starts avoiding him Stan will pick up on that and what if he starts avoiding him too? But he’s already ignoring him, so does it really matter at this point? 

_What the fuck does he even say_! 

He’s barely spoken to Eddie outside of general pleasantries, so why is he asking about him _now_?

“Yeah, yeah, great. Never better.” He isn’t sure what expression he’s making right now, but it feels awkward and stilted and all around projecting ‘ _I’m a nervous goddamn wreck_ ’ energy. 

“Oh, okay.” He says it like the conversation is done, but he’s still turned toward him worrying the worn edge of a notebook with his fingers like he wants to say more but isn’t really sure how to talk to him.

And...he’s nervous? Talking to Richie Tozier? 

Huh.

“Cat got your tongue short stuff?” He smiles at him, the realization that he’s not the only fumbling mess in this conversation oddly comforting. 

If Richie’s nervous, and Eddie’s nervous, that’s like multiplying two negatives, or in this case two socially awkward teens attempting casual conversation. And a negative times a negative is a positive! It’s basic math now. 

Richie might suck with people, but he’s pretty good at math.

Eddie scowls at him at the short comment and raises a stern finger pressing it into Richie’s chest. “Okay, first of all _asshole_ , I’m average height! Not all of us can be gangly giants! Like, do you even have a torso under that hoodie?”

Richie opens his mouth and Eddie puts a hand up. “No, don’t answer that, rhetorical question. Besides, it’s a yes. I bet you’re like that Octopus Ride from that kids cartoon- the claymation one? Yeah, all limbs and hands.”

Oh.

 _Oh my god_.

“Weeeell Eds, I don’t think you’re quite tall enough yet, but your mom didn’t have any complaints about riding _my_ one-eyed octopus all last night!”

Eddie turns _red_ , like the kinda red that dusts over his freckles and the tips of his ears in blotchy spots as his thick eye brows furrow and Richie’s heart does a somersault in his chest because it’s too fucking _cute, cute, cute_!

Richie’s seeing _hearts_ , like not literally, that’d be _insane_ (and something straight out of a shojo manga and _ha_ Richie _is not_ protagonist material. Maybe, like, a comedic side character that gets his own cute love interest? But, _never_ a main character. And that’s chill with him, being the focus of a story would be anxiety inducing!) But his palms sweat so he wipes them subtly on his jeans as a heat eats at his face. 

“My name is _Eddie_ , and you’ve probably never even met my mom!”

“Have too! Who _doesn’t_ know the most beautiful, amazing, special women in the world? Like, me and all her pornhub subscribers beat it-”

“ _Oh my god_ don’t you fucking _dare_ continue that sentence!” Richie pauses midway into miming a ‘jacking it’ motion with his hand. 

He does it anyway.

Eddie lets out a choked cry grabbing his hands and shoving them down. “And stop that!”

Stan’s hands are thin, like Richies, and kinda vaguely sweaty that seems to be the natural state of any teen that spends too long pressing buttons in front of the ol’ boob toob ( _Innuendo fully intended_.)

He holds your hand like he’s holding something precious. 

The few times they’ve held hands, in the dark of Richie’s basement, the TV the only light illuminating the area as they huddle close on two bean bags crushed together amidst snacks and drinks, Richie noted it then. Stan’s hand curling around his, long digits fitting into the grooves between Richie’s fingers so perfectly he wondered why they didn’t hold hands all the time. 

They were rough, and bony, but cooling to his overheated skin and cradling him with a gentle pressure that let Richie know he could move his hand away any moment he wanted to.

Richie never wanted to.

Eddie though, Eddie’s hand is _soft_ where his tan fingers dig into the meat of Richie’s palm, the blunt tips of his nails pressing against his skin (not enough to hurt, but just enough to know they’re there). 

And he’s _burning_ . A fire licking it’s way from the inside out consuming all around him. Richie _melts_ at the contact, a wax candle to his flame, igniting _something_ inside of him that he didn’t even know was there to light.

He wants to fall into it, like a freshly laundered fleece blanket cradling him in a toasty cocoon of safety. But Eddie’s pulling his hand away all too soon (which yeah, of course, why would he keep holding Richie’s hand? It’s not like they’re super close friends or anything it would be weird if they lingered) and Richie steels in the urge to reach out and keep their hands clasped together. 

Eddie rolls his doe brown eyes slumping back in his seat with his arms crossed. “You are such a turd dude.”

To keep his treacherous hands from reaching out- to nudge him, or poke him, or touch him as much as he has the biting urge to in any way he can- he shoves them in his hoodie pocket picking at a hangnail on his thumb. “Takes one to know one my vertically challenged friend!” 

Eddie tries to hide a tilted smile into his shoulder but Richie sees it and feels a weightless swoop in his stomach.

“You know you just admitted to being a piece of shit? Like, I’m not questioning your life choices, but you probably shouldn’t agree when someone calls you that.” Eddie gestures with a circular motion of his hand to all of Richie.

The taller of the two snorts, shaking his head. “You called me a _turd_ , _not_ a piece of shit. There’s a difference man. It’s like calling someone a bitch or a whore. Bitch can be something of endearment, but calling someone a _whore_ ? Fucking _rude_.”

Eddie scrunches his face as if the words (TRUTH) Richie speaks can be waved away if he grimaces at them hard enough.

“They literally mean the same thing! Ever heard of synonyms? Also, for the record, bitch and whore _do_ mean different things, so of course they’d have different meanings! But a turd is a piece of shit is fucking human excrement which this conversation is quickly turning into!”

Richie barely restrains a bubble of laughter. “So…” Oh god he’s making this too easy, “basically you’re talking shit?” He tsks looking at the other with mock pity. “How catty of you Eds.”

“Since you don’t know what synonyms are and have trouble remembering things, let me spell this out for you.” And he flips open his notebook, which is more of an organized planner with highlights and dates written in neat clean penmanship, going to the notes section with a click of his mechanical pencil writing out ‘ **EDDIE** **_FUCKING_ ** **KASPBRAK** ’ in large capitol letters.

He rips the page out shoving it right into Richie’s face. “So you can’t fucking forget it asshole.”

And with startling clarity, face smooshed into lined paper, he sees it. What makes Eddie Kaspbrak so special. 

He’s small, and soft, and adorable in every sense of the word, but he’s got a fire in him that burns beneath the surface flickering out in brilliant explosions.

Yeah.

Eddie _fucking_ Kaspbrak.

The paper floats down and Richie catches it delicately in his hands trying not to crease it as moths flutter in his throat. And it’s almost too hot, sitting in these metal kiddie chairs in the back of drama class (that’s less of a class and more of a free period for Miss Douglas to do the least amount of work possible) pressed next to Eddie. 

He’s warm, and his hands are sweating, and maybe he should ask if they can turn down the temperature? (Or is it turn it up? Make it _colder_ .) Because he _really_ doesn’t want to take off his hoodie, and have the pit stains show on his shirt. 

Oh god, he doesn’t remember the last time he put on deodorant. 

He puts it on every morning, but it’s been some hours and Richie tends to sweat a lot so one roll a day isn’t enough and if he starts smelling _now_ of all times he’s gonna _lose it_. 

Also, what the hell is this? Normally it’s _freezing_ in here so he doesn’t get why its suddenly so fucking _hot_ \- 

“-in any case you’re Stan’s friend, right?”

Ah- ha...

A bucket of ice water rushes over him and his pulse freezes stuttering his whole body to a halt.

O-oh my god.

What the _fuck_ is _wrong_ with him.

Stan, Staniel, Stanley Urine, Stan the Man, his best goddamn friend in the entire universe _and beyond_ and he’s sitting here making goo-goo eyes at his _crush_. 

“Yeah!” He lets out a half hysterical laugh, tone a little too high pitched and strained, but Eddie must really be focused on what he wants to say because he doesn’t even look up from his wringing hands. 

“I’ve been talking to him a little about- uh, okay don’t judge me for this, I’m trusting you, and I don’t do this but you’re close to Stan, a-and I don’t have many people I can talk to about this stuff?” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, shiny with recently applied chap-stick. So close to him, it smells like honey. 

And it’s kinda distracting?? 

Fuck, no, _focus_ Tozier! 

This is the guy your best friend has been in love with since fucking _middle school_ and he’s about to tell you something he can’t tell Stan and even if you’re vaguely upset he’s ignoring you (and more upset that this conversation may confirm something Richie has been dreading and hoping won’t come to pass because then it means Stan’s out of his reach in a way that hurts more then he can put into words which doesn’t even make _sense_ because he’ll still be his best friend _but he won’t be his_ -)

“There’s this guy, that I like.”

“Oh.” And it comes out like a punch to the gut. He feels like crying. But it’s not the time so he plasters on a smile shoving his hands as far into his hoodie as he can bawling the paper up into his fist. “Yeah? Wh-what a lucky schmuck, huh?”

“I’ve known him for awhile, but we’ve been talking more recently, and he’s…” Eddie gets a tender faraway look in his eyes gazing at a spot just over Richie’s shoulder. “...you know how you can know someone for years, and you know them- or at least you think you do. Like, you have this preconceived notion that _this_ is who they are, _this_ is their role, _these_ are their lines. An actor playing their part in the stage of you mind.”

Considering a moment ago he tried not to think of Eddie as anything more than that guy Stan liked and is now… 

Yeah, he gets that all too well.

“And then the script gets flipped, and the play might be the same at its core, but the role is different. _He’s_ different and you… kinda may be into him?”

Their eyes meet and Eddie-

He knows that look.

He sees it on Stan whenever he talks about Eddie, or watches him pass in the hall, or anytime they interact.

It’s yearning with a touch of an earnest budding romance, as if his eyes are saying ‘I want to _know_ them, I want to be _with_ them, I want to be there _for_ them’ and Richie…

By his entry hall, there’s a mirror. He’s always hated it. Not because it’s gaudy or particularly obstructive.

But because every-time Stan leaves, closing the door behind him, he sees that same look in his own eyes.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth leaning back nodding his head. “Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. So, you like this dude, what’s your hesitation Eddie?”

The other shrugs scratching at a spot just behind his ear nervously. “How do I know? That it’s worth the risk? That _he’s_ worth the risk?”

“You don’t but…”

Moments. Too many where he never said anything. He never took the risk, playing it safe, playing the best friend, playing the joker.

Playing the part.

And now, Richie smiles, because he’s just a side character, and this was never really his story to begin with.

“...I think that’s the point. You never know how things will turn out. And if you don’t give it a try, you can be sure you never will.”

He pats a hand on Eddie’s shoulder as the shrill bell rings startling Miss Douglas awake as the class turns into a flurry of movement to leave. He tunes her out collecting his things, the shorter boy following him out the door into the sea of the high-schools hallways. 

“Hey, Richie?” 

He pauses midway to putting on his headphones standing amidst the faceless current of students that flow around them.

“Thanks.” 

He nods, “Anytime Eddie Spaghetti.”

He doesn’t wait to hear his response, already moving in the opposite direction to his next period. 

It’s not until he’s slumped at his desk, the mindless drone of literary terms going in one ear and out the other, that he remembers the paper. Creased and crumpled up, the name still reads clear. 

Eddie fucking Kaspbrak.

You know, it’s cool though. Richie isn’t the type of person to lay it all out there anyway, and he’d complicate the situation more than it needed to be. 

More than anything, he wants Stan to be happy. And Eddie can give him that.

He might be a bit of an asshole right now, but he’s still his best friend, and always will be.

The minutes drone on in the day until he’s counting the seconds for his last period to end. He still hasn’t seen Stan since he got snubbed at lunch, and the spike of bitter disappointment (and a rising wave of worry) is starting to eat at him.

He better have a damn good reason to ignore him.

 _Plus_ a damn good apology that involves Peter’s Sushi, Apocalypse of the Damned and a fucking _shit_ ton of weed.

Especially because Richie just performed his duties as ace wing-man pushing Eds towards him with a pointed shove and if Stan thinks he’s not gonna bring that up the first time the two smoosh faces, _well_ he’s-

“Richie!”

Happy to see him?

He blinks at the other like an idiot for a second, startled to run into him right after class. Then scowls because dude _what the fuck_!

This dick fucking pretends he doesn’t exist for, like, _literally_ the whole day and then tries to act all buddy-buddy as if nothings wrong?!

He shrugs his headphones on pointedly shouldering past Stan heading towards the exit.

“Rich-hey! Wait up! I’ve been looking for you!”

“Really? So, what, we’re just pretending you haven’t been ignoring me?”

“Ignoring you? What are you talking about I haven’t seen you since-” The other pauses mid-stride and turns sharply to the right.

“Reactivate. Why haven’t I seen Richie since-”

He cuts off, and Richie turns to him and it’s almost like he’s...having a conversation?

...With the air???

“What does that even _mean_ , Richie’s my best friend he’s not-”

“Fucking _no_ ! I don’t want you making _decisions_ like that for me I can-”

“Yeah, but not when-”

“Uh,” Richie adjusts his glasses clearing his throat awkwardly smiling at a few students that pass by giving them a wide berth and odd looks. “Not to interrupt this _clearly_ titillating conversation, but you’re seriously scaring me Stan. You’ve been acting super cagey and now…”

He waves at the other before putting a hand on his shoulder. “Is it drugs? Cause, like, I feel you. But experimental prescriptions for natural male enhancement aren’t approved by the FDA for a reason.”

Stan scrunches his face looking at Richie like _he’s_ the crazy one. “No, Richie, just no!”

“Then what! You’ve been blowing me off ever since-”

Since the mall.

Since that creepy Bowers guy at the back of a payless shoes store.

Since getting scammed out of all Stan's bar mitzvah money for a _tic-tac_.

But that would mean...

HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!

“It worked?! Stan! This is amazing! I mean, we need to go over _so_ much, and-and document this shit, or like celebrate or- what the fuck dude this is so unreal!!”

Stan smiles awkwardly laughing as Richie shakes him by his shoulders. 

"You should have told me sooner! What, were you worried I wouldn't believe you?"

The other winces, which Richie takes as a yes, and softens trailing his fingers down Stan’s arm to curl around his wrists.

It’s a familiar motion, if only because Richie is a particularly tactile person, and even if he can’t bring himself to hold Stan’s hand ( _but thinks about it every time their palms brush walking side to side, or they lean in close sides practically flushed absorbed in video games, or-_ ) he still can’t resist touching him in some way. 

“You know I’d always have your back dude. Doesn’t matter about what, I’m there. You decide to go on a fuckin’ bender setting fires or something? Tell my moms I love ‘em and pass me the gasoline.” 

Stan opens and closes his mouth, then stiffens turning to glare at something to the side reminding Richie the reason he’s excited. “Now come on dude! I got a doobie with your name on it back home!” Richie pulls Stan towards the exit to the school chattering a mile a minute. 

“Like, it’s a supercomputer, so maybe now you won’t fail math so hard. Oh! Can it, like, hack things? Dude, we can get _perfect grades_! And when we graduate this shit hole, college will be a breeze! We’ll never have to worry about a thing, just Richie and Stan two-players beating the system at its own game. Holy shit can you, like, see the matrix all Neo style-”

And maybe if he looked back, he’d have seen the hesitation on Stan’s face. Could have asked Stan what the issue was and talked him out of the bullshit creeping into his thoughts. Could have found out Eddie _hadn’t_ been talking about Stan and walked him through that. 

Convinced him there was time. Convinced him he just needed to be patient. Convinced him... 

...Richie was good enough too.

But the could’s don’t matter as Richie keeps walking, almost to the exit, when Stan pulls from his grip standing in the middle of the hallway. He speaks in a near whisper, but Richie hears the words in his ears like a megaphone. 

And they sting, spoken to an invisible thing and not to him.

“If I follow him, I’ll stay the same won’t I. I’ll always just be a fucking loser. I’ll never be anything with him.”

“Stan-”

But his next words- they _are_ to Richie and his heart is near ripped out of his chest.

Stan, his best friend, the guy who knows him more than he knows himself, the person he trusts most in this world looks him in the eye and says, “Optic nerve blocking on.” and his eyes glaze over.

It’s the same look he had all the other times Richie approached him, and he’s too stunned to do anything as Stan brushes past him like he isn’t even there. 

He walks to the exit and smiles wide at that popular girl, Patty he thinks, taking her hand in his so casually. They leave together, huddled close.

He doesn’t look back once.

He’s unsure how long he stands there staring at the exit vacantly hoping this is all some cruel joke and Stan’s going to walk back in any second with a sardonic smirk going “You really fell for that, huh?”

Is it...him?

Did he do this? 

Was he not open enough, there enough, supportive enough, what was _wrong_ with him for Stan to-

But this wasn’t a problem before.

They are a _team_ . He can’t _believe_ ten _plus_ years of friendship can mean so little to the other without an outside influence, without someone whispering in his ear making him believe all these terrible things about himself and Richie.

Or… some _thing_.

That _fucking_ pill!

In a blink, he’s driving white knuckling the wheel as determination settles over him. 

If something like this exists there _must_ be information about it _somewhere_ . Can’t look it up on the internet his _ass_! Shit like this doesn’t just come up without people chatting it up in forums and subreddits and wherever else. 

He only needs to _find_ them.

Starting with that creep at payless! He’s the connection, he _must_ know other people too, there’s no way there isn’t more to this.

For Stan’s sake, despite how much it hurts to think, he _hopes_ its nothing serious. That _maybe_ it’s just a bad decision Richie’ll ream him out for later and they’ll laugh about it years down the line roomies in college finally _free_ from all the pressure to be cool and popular and whatever else their bullies keep shoving in their faces since _middle school_. 

If not-if this is serious- and that _fucking_ wintergreen tic-tac is causing all of this…

Advanced technology or not, _years_ of watching Star Wars and the Matrix and Tron and every other sci-fi movie that has machines taking over mankind or rogue AI or an evil force hell bent on conquering the galaxy have taught him anything, there’s _always_ a kill switch. 

Richie _will_ find it, and make that supercomputer AI _motherfucker_ **_hurt_**.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again an idea has consumed me until I wrote it out distracting me from my current WIP. But I love Be More Chill and haven't written anything for these three yet so I needed to get the idea out of my head. 
> 
> Special thanks to [@binthibubb](https://www.instagram.com/binthibubb/) for letting me write this based on their AU!
> 
> Follow me on Twitter for posting updates and WIP ideas: [@edspageds](https://twitter.com/edspageds)
> 
> Till next time, cheers!


End file.
